Zia Gourmet Pizza

While Nozaru stays tight in the ramen lane and DAO Fu bounces between three cuisines, Zia spins out creative thin-crust pizzas that land somewhere between date-night ambitious and weeknight actually-doable. The pepperoni mascarpone gets the most love from locals—soft, thin base, sweet edge to the sauce, creamy mascarpone cutting through the spice in a way that makes the classic feel like a remix worth the drive. But the real tell is how many regulars order the weirder pies: that lemon garlic chicken, the caramelized pear situation, toppings that would flop hard if the kitchen wasn't dead serious about balance.

The crust is the quiet anchor here—thin enough to stay crisp, sturdy enough to hold up under ambitious topping loads, never the cardboard snap that hurts your mouth. You can taste the difference between dough made that day and dough made whenever. Veggie options run deep without the usual sad-compromise energy, which is rare for a pizza joint that also nails the meat-heavy standards.

Service comes with actual personality. The owner (Zaw Zaw, if you catch him) clearly gives a damn about matching people to the right pie rather than just slinging whatever's easy. The team runs charismatic in a way that feels genuine, not scripted—ask a question and you'll get an opinion, not a corporate answer. They'll take late orders without the passive-aggressive sigh some kitchens give you ten minutes before close.

It's the kind of spot that works as a neighborhood go-to because it doesn't try to be everything: solid beer and wine list, casual enough for kids, interesting enough for a low-key date, priced to keep regulars coming back weekly instead of monthly. Adams Avenue doesn't lack for food, but it needed a pizza place willing to take risks without losing the plot.